It'll Happen
by simmerdown17
Summary: James and his best friend have a confusing relationship. And Carlos complicates matters.
1. Chapter 1

It'll happen

I'd always thought James was sexy. I mean, how could you not? Even when we were eleven and playing flag football in our joint backyard on Thanksgiving, I'd appreciated the way that his hoodie clung to his shoulders, how the mud on his cheeks didn't make him any less beautiful. And when I'd broken my arm falling out of the tree at the corner of his driveway when we were seven, the way his eyes were colored with concern was gorgeous. This is all in retrospect, of course, because he was like a brother to me. Well at least until, like, two weeks ago when that little turd decided he was going to play wrestle me for the first time in years.

"Hayleigh. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYLEIGH," James called. I could hear him through my headphones, with my door closed. And, wait, how the fuck had he gotten into my dorm building? I pulled my earbuds out and ripped open my door. Other girls on my floor were leaning out their doors to investigate.

"Hayyyyyyyleigh," his voice split the air again as he rounded the corner.

"James." I gave a warning snarl as I grabbed the collar of the maroon dress shirt that he'd probably spent way too much money on, and pulled him into my room, smiling apologetically at the other girls and slamming the door. As I turned back toward him, he was straightening out his collar and smoothing the front of the shirt, and, okay, he may have spent a ridiculous amount on his clothes, but they all fit him so well. He smirked at me.

"Hi, Hayleigh."

"Three things: what the fuck are you doing here? How the fuck did you get in? And did you have to make an entrance? Now they're all going to think I'm a weirdo with annoying friends."

"That's technically four things," he replied, wrapping me in a hug. Completely ignoring my questions and sitting down on my bed, he continued, "How was your first week?"

Hmmm. How was my first week at UCLA? I'd been given the wrong directions, walked into the wrong classrooms, been late to Bio Lab, spilt coffee all over my Lit professor, gotten lost in downtown LA while trying to find a restaurant James had told me about, been totally awkward in my first encounters with college boys and everyone on my floor seemed to know each other already. And living in a single didn't help.

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm just glad it's over."

James grinned. "So, are you coming out with us tonight? I have your fake right here." He held up a California driver's license. I reached out for it, and he held it out of my reach. "Ah, ah," he said, wagging a finger in my face and then pointing to his cheek. "Payment." The grin he gave me was wicked as he winked. I shook my head and put my hand on my hip, holding out my hand for the ID. He didn't budge.

"You're such an ass, James." I grabbed for it and he pulled back again. I stood back, glared at him, and raised an eyebrow. He started to relax so I took my chance and surged forward again, but he was too fast, leaning back onto my bed and I lost my balance and fell right on top of him and we were wrestling around like we used to when we were kids and our mothers would have to pull us apart, kicking and screaming, both of us laughing, probably with a few new bruises.

But it was different now. His hand seared my bare thigh as I tried to kick him back. My arm pulling at his back met hard muscle instead of the boney shoulder blades I remembered. James was laughing and I felt his chest move with it as I reached out for the ID. And I could feel the muscles of his abdomen stretching and working to keep it out of my grasp. He was enjoying this way too much.

When we were little, we were pretty evenly matched. I was a little big for my age, my muscles developed by my fierce love of sports and sheer necessity, growing up with three older brothers. And James, he was scrawny, at least he was last time we'd done this. He'd hit his stride around eighth grade and never looked back. While I was still strong and lean, James had caught up to me. His biceps rippled as he grabbed my arms and flipped me over, pinning me to the bed, a self-satisfied, triumphant smile teasing at his lips.

"Now," he said in a business-like tone, flipping his hair out of his face. "Payment?" He turned his cheek towards me, and it was a good thing he had my hands pinned down, and, ugh, the smug bastard, he knew that. And, okay, I'd never really noticed how good he smelled, or really appreciated the way his eye sparkled when he was being mischievous. Whatever. I just wanted my damn fake so I could go hang out with the boys tonight.

"You're an asshole," I told him again before pecking him on the cheek. He hopped up off of me, and straightened his collar again. Looking in my full length mirror, he made sure he was all in place, fixing his hair perfectly. He tossed the ID at me.

"We're coming for you at nine. Don't be too sexy, now; I don't want Carlos to have a fit."


	2. Chapter 2

I was proud of my body. Years of cross country, soccer, and basketball had kept me lean and strong. My athletic build was something I took pride in. That's not to say I wasn't curvy. My best friend in high school was always commenting on how jealous she was. "You've got the best of both worlds, Hayleigh," she'd say. While I liked how I looked, I was always self-conscious about being complimented. It made me think too much about myself. I liked the effortless awareness that came with running, not the awkward consciousness I got when people told me I looked good. I guess I was opposite of most girls that way. But after feeling shitty and invisible all week, I was excited to get dressed up, go out, and turn some heads.

After showering, I took my time drying my hair, not bothering to straighten it. I pulled the red waves off my forehead and pinned them back with the Hermes clip James had given me as a graduation present. With the right make up, I really did look 23 like the fake license said I was. Smoking up my lids with black and shades of gray, I added a hint of gold right along my upper lashes, making my green eyes pop and sizzle. Smoothing a soft nude gloss onto my lips made them pouty and inviting.

I stepped into the green sweetheart dress that hugged my chest and fluffed out over my thighs, making my legs look like they went on for miles and I knew James would appreciate the gold Loriblu heels I strapped on. I hung a delicate gold chain with a single diamond around my neck. Taking in my appearance in the full length mirror, I shrugged. Not bad. I grabbed my gold clutch and opened my door, nearly colliding with the petite, pretty blonde who lived across the hall.

"Amber, right?" She nodded brightly, but it faded as she couldn't remember my name. "I'm Hayleigh," I said.

"Right," she said, her smile returning. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I'm terrible with names." Before I could respond, she piped up again, "You look really nice. Where are you off to?"

"Going out with some friends." I smiled warmly at her. She was the first person to really show me any interest all week.

"Oh, your boyfriend?" she asked. My brow furrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "He was up here earlier?" When I didn't respond, she prompted me. "Gorgeous face? Nice eyes? Cute ass?" She giggled.

"What? James?" I laughed. "God, no. We're just friends. We've known each other forever."

"Oh," she said. "We heard noise coming from your room when he was here, so I just assumed…"

Oh, God, I was mortified. My cheeks glowed. "Jesus. No." Just then the elevator doors opened.

"Well," said Amber, waving, "have a good time!"

Entering the elevator, I put my hand to my head. "Shit," I mumbled, hoping Amber would spread the word that I hadn't been fucking James this afternoon. Oh, God, this was so embarrassing. He was _such_ an ass.

As soon as I got outside, I saw the guys. Straightening my shoulders, I made a beeline for James. Kendall saw me first.

"Oh shit," he said, grabbing James' arm. James spun around, a laugh on his face.

"Hey, dear," he said. I reached up and grabbed his ear, roughly yanking his head down so I could snarl in his ear.

"Your little shenanigan today made my floor mates think we were fucking this afternoon. Get ready for tonight. You're buying all my alcohol." I let him go roughly and turned to Kendall, who wrapped me in a bear hug and picked me up.

"Lookin' good, baby girl," he said, setting me back on the ground gently. I turned to Logan and hugged him. I nodded to the pretty brunette with him that I hadn't met before. I passed back over James, who still seemed a bit surprised by my greeting, and met Carlos' gaze. His mouth was hanging open slightly as he tried not to obviously check me out. His jaw snapped closed as I approached him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Carlitos, I've missed you!" I inhaled his spicy scent and his hand on my bare back was warm. Pulling back, I hooked my arm in his and my other in James'.

"But, what are you doing wearing $900 shoes," asked James, recovering from my outburst. I laughed.

Tonight was going to be a good night.

Three drinks in and I was beginning to really feel it. Okay, there were a lot of cute guys here. And I couldn't figure out why I wasn't being asked to dance. Whatever. There was alcohol in my system and the beat was vibrating throughout my entire body and I grabbed James' hands, throwing them into the air with mine and letting my head fall back, dancing like there was nothing in the world I'd rather be doing. There's not too much I needed to worry about when James is around. He always took care of me. Every time we went out, he was always within a couple feet of me, his watchful eye made me feel safe.

I pulled him in close to me. "I need another drink," I yelled into his ear. I kinda liked the way my hand felt clutching the back of his neck, the sweat soaked hair slipping through my fingers. He grabbed my hand and pulled me passed Kendall who was dancing with a tall girl with jet black hair and lip ring, and to the bar. He called out our order to the bartender and laid down cash as the shots were set in front of us.

He flashed me a wicked grin and winked, tapping his shotglass on mine before throwing back his head and emptying the alcohol into his mouth. And the way his neck stretched and his Adam's apple bobbed made my heart skip a beat. The sight of the beads of sweat running down the side of his neck and disappearing into the collar of his white dress shirt was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. He slammed the shot glass onto the counter and licked his lips, tossing his hair out of his face.

"Drink up," he said, pushing the hand that held the alcohol closer to my lips. And my eyes followed his hand, over his wrist and up his arm until it vanished into his rolled up sleeves. He ran his fingers through his hair, still staring at me, his expression full of happiness and something deeper I couldn't begin to understand in my alcohol-induced fog, and fuck it, I took the shot, discarded the glass and pulled him back onto the dance floor.

Throwing my hands up, I moved my hips to the beat, and, God, it felt so good to move, to just _be_, you know? And soon I felt a warm body behind me, pulling me against their waist. I swayed my hips, pushing back slightly and biting my lip. I loved feeling in sync with someone. Strong, hot hands pressed my hips back and I felt a pair of lips by my ear.

"You're so sexy," a familiar voice said. I closed my eyes and felt his body move against mine, and I was wondering why I'd never considered him before. I pushed back against him, my hands coming up to cover his on my waist, and his breath on my neck hitched, then quickened slightly. I felt his lips on the back of my neck and I didn't try to stop him. The alcohol and the music made it feel amazing and I squeezed his fingers to let him know. Suddenly his tongue joined his lips on my skin and, Jesus _Christ_, this was good. I closed my eyes, moaning and leaning my head to the side so he had more skin to kiss.

Opening my eyes, I caught James' hazel gaze a few feet away, his expression stricken. Surprised. Hurt? I couldn't tell because suddenly, Carlos had whipped me around and was staring me in the face, his drunken eyes boring into mine and I kissed him, not really caring who saw. And I'm pretty sure I heard Kendall cat call, but I didn't care because Carlos felt so good and tangy and dangerous. His hands were on my ass as mine pulled him closer. This was really good. Why the fuck had I never taken Carlos' crush seriously before? I pulled back, and a loud whine escaped Carlos' throat. I put a finger to his lips, trying to fix my drunken gaze on him, and it took me a minute, but I locked his eyes with mine and took the finger from his lips and beckoned him to come with me. I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me out into the night air, hailing a cab.

I toppled into the back seat, pulling him on top of me. He told the driver the address and then I pulled him down into another sloppy kiss. The taste of his tongue was intriguing, new and exciting and my hazy brain couldn't wrap itself around such an enigma. Carlos moaned into my lips.

I'd just have to keep tasting it, I guess.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm not even sure which one of us pushed open the door to the house, but once we were inside, I was up against it and feeling every inch of Carlos on me. And it felt amazing. His hands grabbed at every inch of bare skin they could find and my breaths came out as one uninterrupted moan.

God, I wanted him to take me right there, but he roughly pulled me up the stairs, stopping suddenly on the mid floor landing to part my lips with his tongue once again, and I _still_ couldn't grasp what his taste was. I followed him up the remaining steps, and we burst into his room. He pushed me down on the bed, and I never would have guess Carlos liked it rough.

Our mouths attacked each other, his tongue pressing in every corner of my mouth to find something he hadn't tasted yet. I tongued at his neck, the scruff along his jaw, and yes, yes, yes…

I bit down on his earlobe and he cried out, swiveling his hips down against me. I gasped.

"Fuck, Hayleigh," he moaned, as if it hurt how good he was feeling. I pulled him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing up against him.

Begging wasn't usually my thing but I couldn't help myself.

"God, Carlos. _Please_."

He kissed me harshly and pushed my skirt up. His hands crept up my thighs and I'd never wanted anyone to touch me more in my entire life. The haze of the alcohol had my nerves on fire, and, God, I just _**wanted **_him. He was going too slowly. I squirmed beneath him, impatient. His fingers played along the creases where my legs met my torso, and he was so close to where I wanted him to be. I whined, tingling everywhere.

And when his hand was finally where I needed it, I tensed up, gasping for breath.

"Fuck yes," I breathed, laying back and pushing my hips up towards him. And suddenly, his fingers were in me and I let a sound halfway between a scream and a moan. My chest felt restrictive and there was not enough air in this room. Holy shit. I reached up, tangling my hands in his hair and pulled him down to crush his lips into mine. His tongue was hot as he ran it along to inside of my lips. And why the fuck was he still dressed? I pulled at his shirt, turning it inside out and over his head. The look in his eyes as he sat back and unzipped his pants made me throb.

"Hurry," I gasped. "Carlos, please."I pawed at his thighs as he pulled his pants and boxers off. I moaned. The creamy caramel of his skin was more than I could handle right now. I touched every part of his skin I could reach. It was soft and firm. I needed it on me. And all of a sudden he was filling me and I had no idea where my head was. It was somewhere between our bodies. Or perhaps wherever our skin was touching.

I dug my fingers into the tense muscles of his ass, pushing him more deeply into me, arching up to meet him, my head thrown back. And his lips were on my neck. He was sucking and biting and, fuck, this was the most exhilarating sex I could ever imagine. Carlos' lips were sloppy along my jaw line, as his mouth fell open in ecstasy. He sped up, thrusting his hand roughly between us to rub against my clit. I bucked up against him and the noises I was making were vulgar. I heard him utter my name like it was the dirtiest word in his vocabulary and then I was coming around him and I couldn't feel anything but the muscles in my body all energy and pleasure and Carlos.

When he finished, Carlos collapsed on top of me. I kissed him. That was really, really good. After a few minutes, Carlos rolled off me.

"Shit," he said. "Do you want to borrow some clothes?"

I nodded, standing, barely steady, and unzipping my dress, laying it and my bra on the trunk at the end of the bed. I unbuckled my shoes and laid them next to the bed. Suddenly I felt hands on my sides and a kiss on the back of my neck. "Hayleigh," was all he said. I shivered and he pulled a gray v-neck shirt over my head. I turned around and smiled at him, heading back towards the bed. I slipped beneath the covers, and Carlos followed. I rolled over and fell off to sleep, barely noticing as an arm came to rest across my waist.

I awoke as the sun was rising with a pounding headache and a parched throat. My muscles ached and I didn't want to move. The warm body pressed against me took away some of the soreness, but I desperately needed some Advil and some coffee. Careful not to disturb Carlos, I slipped out of bed, went to his dresser and borrowed a pair of boxers, pulling them over my still-sore thighs and hips. Grabbing his favorite purple hoodie, I zipped it around me and headed downstairs.

Padding lightly across the cold hardwood, my toes curled. I wished I had thought to grab some socks as well. Turning into the kitchen, I started some coffee. The morning paper was sitting on the table and I took it up, scanning the headlines while I leaned my back against the countertop waiting for the coffee to drip down.

I turned and opened the cabinet, taking out a large orange mug. Breathing in the deep, rustic scent of the hazelnut, I poured coffee into it. Wrapping my hands around the warmth and closing my eyes against the pounding headache, I sipped the hot liquid, almost scalding my tongue, but I didn't care. I could feel the caffeine rush through my blood, igniting every nerve and reminding me of all the sore spots from what I'd done last night and I smiled to myself; it still kind of hurt to walk.

As I took another sip, I heard the door open. I looked up, and James walked into the kitchen, panting and sweaty. His hair stuck to his face and his athletic shorts clung to his waist, far below his belly button. I swallowed as I took in the tanned expanse of his chest as it heaved, trying to catch up with itself. And for a moment we just stared at each other. My eyes couldn't stop running up and down every line of his abs, across his chest, into the hollows of his collarbones and neck and then up—he hadn't shaved—and over his cheeks until our eyes met and holy Jesus, they were beautiful, almost the same color as my eyes today, with a hint of honey brown around the edges and flecks of the darkest umber beneath the startling green.

He was staring at me with a hunger I couldn't understand. I felt self-conscious under his gaze as it raked over my legs and then back up and locked on my face. I put my coffee down and nervously twisted my hair up into a bun. My hands were shaking and James had never had this effect on me. I couldn't look at him, but I felt his eyes watching my every move.

"Coffee?" I asked, needing desperately to break this silence and the feelings that came with it.

"Water," he replied. And I blushed, mentally slapping myself. Of fucking course. He'd just come in from a run. I smiled awkwardly. Okay, this was really weird and I didn't like it. I grabbed my mug and fled back to Carlos' room.


	4. Chapter 4

The ride back to school later was quiet. Carlos had offered but he looked like hell, and, besides, I was pretty sure he was still partially drunk from last night. He had given me a very sweet goodbye kiss, though. I wasn't really sure what he thought we were. But I was definitely okay with being fuck buddies.

So we sat quietly in James' Jeep, my hand tapping against my thigh awkwardly to break the silence. And this, this was weird. I'd never had a prolonged silence with James. Ever. And we'd known each other our entire lives. So. This….was so weird. I'd never not been able to talk to James. And I couldn't put my finger on what stopped me now. It was so awkward. Maybe it was because I'd always been able to read him, to somehow sense his mood, his feelings, and now all of a sudden I had no idea, not even an inkling what he was thinking. Angry? Upset? Surprised? All of these? None of these? This was like some terribly constructed multiple choice test that I didn't want to take. And what was that hungry look he'd given me in the kitchen when our eyes had battled and he'd won? I hated when he won, and he very rarely did, not when I was involved.

As we approached my building, instead of pulling up and dropping me off, James pulled into the parking lot and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

"Uh, James?" He was walking around to open my door. I stayed in my seat and eyed him up. "What are you doing?"

He wouldn't look at me, but grabbed my arm.

"I'm going to walk you up." I was surprised by the hardness in his voice.

"But—" I began to protest, but his eyes met mine with a fierce glint that struck out at me like a viper that told me not to fuck with him. And I was kind of scared. And what the hell, I'd never been afraid of James in my life.

"I don't want them to think you're some kind of slut."

I couldn't help myself. I laughed in his face, and his narrowed eyes hardened as he set his jaw.

"James," I said, waiting until he relaxed his grip on my arm. "I'm wearing borrowed men's clothes and carrying my clothes from last night. Pretty sure that ship's already sailed." His expression didn't change and he pulled me roughly out of the car. I was really confused. This was bullshit. James was acting completely weird. I wanted the old James back. I want the James that was fun, the James that never made me feel bad, the James that wasn't moody and confusing, the James that cared about me and didn't make me wonder what the fuck his problem was.

And, okay, the way he took my elbow and guided me gently into the building was kind of adorable. But I was still fucking confused. When had best friend James turned into man James in my mind? When had the line become blurred? Because I'd never really thought of James as someone I could be attracted to. Or who could be attracted to me. But the way he was acting….I didn't know. This was stupid. He was my best friend.

When we reached my floor, James led me off the elevator and towards my room, colliding head-on with Amber.

"Sorry," mumbled James, looking miserable. And I was even more confused. Since when did James not hit on attractive girls he had literally just run into?

"Um, hey," she said, looking between James and me in Carlos' clothes.

"Hey, Amber," I replied, trying to give her a smile, but silently screaming fuck my life in my head. Before I could do anything else, James pulled me along and to my room. Once we were inside, I stood by the end of my bed, staring over at him awkwardly. He was silent. His eyebrows were furrowed. And he was looking around the room, anywhere but at me. He stared at my bulletin board which held pictures of friends and family. My favorite was a picture of James and I on Halloween when we were six. The fake blood that dripped from his mouth had gotten on my ballerina costume and I was glaring at him, hands on my hips. He was grinning up at the camera, his plastic vampire teeth shiny and lopsided in his mouth, his arm around my shoulder.

He reached out and his fingertips grazed the picture. His eyes met mine, squinting, as if trying to see six year old me standing in my college dorm room instead of morning after nineteen year old me. I stared back, unable to understand this, him, or anything. The intensity knocked the air from my chest and I let out a soft gasp.

"I love that picture," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn't understand what I was feeling, what this energy, this undeniable tension was in the room, what his expression meant. I was grasping at straws in my mind. I hated this. I hated not being in control of my own life, my own fate, and I hated that it was James that held the power. Because I wasn't used to being the follower, dependent on another's movements.

And I stood there stupidly, unable to move or speak and then he closed the distance between us in two long strides and he was pulling my waist against his with one hand, while the other came up to cradle my cheek with a feather light touch, his hand shaking slightly, and no, _**now**_ I couldn't breathe. And before I could register anything that was happening, his gaze slammed into mine with want, desperation, confusion, love…maybe? And then our lips connected gently. He moved slowly at first, hesitant, and then hungrily, his tongue pushing its way passed my paralyzed lips and filling my mouth with the most delicious friction. My shoes and dress fell to the floor as I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck, and oh my God, what _was_ this?

He pulled back slowly, his eyelashes resting gently on his cheekbones and his brow furrowed a bit, as if he was locking the memory away for future reference, and then he opened his eyes, looked at me, and the calm was shattered. The look of panic on his face did nothing to clarify what had just happened. He released me and backed up, his eyes wide, his mouth agape.

"Fuck," he murmured. "Shit, Hayleigh, I'm so sorry."

And then he was gone, wrenching open my door and running down the hall.

Amber peeked her head in my door, raising an eyebrow and giggling.

"Looks like you had a great time with your non-boyfriend last night."


	5. Chapter 5

Weeks passed. James never mentioned the kiss. I just took my lead from him because God knows I didn't want to deal with these feelings. I wasn't used to feelings in general. At least not difficult ones like this. Stress and happiness and sadness and anger are all cut and dry. And you just deal with that shit as it comes along. And when all that piled up, I just relieved the stress. I ran. Or went to see Carlos. He was very good at relieving my stress. Any place or any time.

Once, he'd been sexting me all through my biology lecture. I couldn't handle myself so I left early and there he was waiting for me in the hallway.

"Took you long enough." He smirked and I grabbed him, dragging him into the bathroom, locking the door and letting him turn the texts into reality.

And that felt damn good. And it was something I didn't have to think about. It's very black and white to me. It feels good, do it. It hurts, confuses, stresses, don't do it. So I'd found myself in Carlos' bed many more times that I could count.

James had never been one to let other people affect him moods. He could be happy when everyone else was sad. He could look on the bright side when everyone else had lost hope. But every time I walked through that door and James realized it wasn't to see him, I thought I saw a little bit of him fade. I couldn't look him in the eye anymore. Not because I was embarrassed about being with Carlos—fuck, if James was going to judge me for that, he wasn't the best friend I'd grown up with—but because I was afraid of what I would see there.

You can tell everything by looking in James' eyes. The brown and green move fluidly and each arrangement means something different. I'd been a student of James for nineteen years without even realizing it. I was as familiar with each fluctuation as I was with every nuance of my own body. Being hyperaware of James was part of my life. I didn't understand that that wasn't the norm. I knew every little thing…until he went and kissed me and messed everything the fuck up. Because nothing made sense with him anymore and I hated this over thinking.

These feeling took a back seat. I didn't want to deal with this. Either someone—attention James—explained it to me, or I refused to think about it. But sometimes late at night when I couldn't escape my own mind, I couldn't help but worry…that he wouldn't be able to explain these feelings to me. Because they were mine and they were new and, no, it wasn't just James, it was me, too. And that's when I would cry.

I hated crying. So fucking much. I promised myself I'd never cry over a boy, but here I was…but he wasn't just a boy. He was my best friend. So that didn't count, right? Because I didn't want him like that. I had these feelings. But that didn't mean I wanted him like that. I was just confused. And it's not like the problem was even that I wanted or didn't want him. It was that I didn't know what I wanted.

I wasn't one to sit back and watch once I knew what I wanted…if that was the case, Carlos and I wouldn't have gotten passed that first time. But this whole not understanding myself or James thing? Yeah, I fucking hated that.

So waking up in Carlos' arms was the best I could do for now.

"Mmmmmm, baby," he said, nuzzling into my neck. And I rolled my eyes, putting my arm between us to keep the distance.

Okay, I was never really the touchy feely type unless someone was feeling me up in preparation for something more. And Carlos was just the opposite. And I felt annoyed every time he was affectionate with me. To be honest, Carlos was more like a safe way to have fun. I love him but not in the way that I wanted to be all lovey dubby. He could make me scream his name in bed, but I wasn't in to whispering it in his ear afterwards.

He tried to pull me in close to him and I pushed him off.

"Stop!" I spat, ripping the covers back and getting out of bed. I rounded on him and fixed him with a glare. "Jesus Christ, Carlos. I don't know what you think this is, but I'm not your girlfriend. I don't want to snuggle after we fuck, alright?"

Carlos' face registered shock, but that was quickly replaced by hurt. He set his jaw and squared his shoulders. I could see the anger bubbling up like lava. I'd never crossed Carlos before and I was about to find out why.

"Yeah?" said Carlos, glaring at me, furrowing him brow and looking me up and down as if he'd never seen anything so loathsome. "Why don't you just go fuck James then? I know that's who you want anyway." I was rushing around the room, collecting my clothes.

"You've probably already been with him," he snarled. "He's been acting weird." Out of nowhere, Carlos grabbed my upper arm and whipped me roughly around. "You've been fucking him too, haven't you?"

"What, Carlos, no," I said, writhing to escape his grasp but his fingers were digging into me. He pulled me up and thrust his face into mine.

"Don't lie on top of everything else….baby." He said the last word like it burnt his tongue with an acid to say it. His grip was getting ever-tighter and I knew his fingers were going to leave a bruise. He stared at me, his chin jutting out in anger and disgust, and when I didn't respond, he released me, pushing me towards the door.

"Slut," he murmured with venom.

I was fuming. Whatever. I guess Carlos was only good at passion: sex and anger. I rushed down the stairs pulling on clothes, leaning and hopping on one foot to pull on my shoes. This was bullshit. This was _such_ bullshit. Where was James? I didn't have money for a cab and I wasn't about to go ask Carlos. And I didn't want to wait around in the same house as him, just asking for more of a verbal beating. And where the fuck _was_ James?

Just then, the door opened and James entered with a pretty little brunette on his arm and I had to swallow the bile that had just come up in my throat. And what the fuck? I'd seen James with dozens of girls and in many a compromising position, so why now was I unable to deal with it? I blamed Carlos. That was the easy way. He stopped when he saw me, when our eyes connected.

"Um, uh, Lauren." He addressed the girl, but his eyes were locked on mine. "This is Hayleigh."

"Uh. Okay," she said, looking between us. "I'm, uh. I'm gonna go."

As she left, James backed into the door until it closed. I took him in…black jeans that fit him perfectly, tucked into the black boots I'd convinced him to buy at 4:30 in the morning last Black Friday. His hair was pushed back and a few stray pieces fell into his face. The olive v neck he wore showed off his collar bones well. But the leather jacket was something new. And it quickened the beat of my heart as I stood there half naked and all of a hot mess. His eyes raked over my body, standing before him in just a bra and a pair of Carlos' boxers.

"Um, hi," he said. He was trying to tear his eyes from me but couldn't. This is where my James would have laughed, made a joke about me never wearing proper clothes or something. But this new James, this hesitant, confusing douche of a James, kept staring and searching me with his eyes, not saying a word, and I was fed the fuck up.

"What the fuck, James? Hi? That's all you have for this? Just 'hi'?" I threw the rest of the clothes I was holding on the floor and stomped toward him, gesturing wildly. "You haven't been acting right." I was up in his face now. "Even Carlos noticed and you know he's not the most observant person ever." James was pressing himself back onto the door, keeping himself as far away from me as possible. But I was nearly pressed up against him. "So what the fuck is this, James? You know I don't like to play games."

And then he was holding me, his hands hot on my skin and my anger couldn't be found in my hazy mind. There wasn't room for it. Not with all the nerves screaming for attention. And James' hot breath on my lips. And I found my mind begging for him to kiss me.

And I heard him swallow wetly, his mouth lulling open after and a gasp escaping his lips. My lips were burning but I was afraid. Confusion welled up within me again. His hands sat on my hip and back like white hot bricks and he needed to move or I was going to explode.

"Hayleigh, don't make me do this," he rasped. I looked up at him. His eyes were closed softly, his forehead creased as if in pain. His breathing was heavy and his chest moved against mine. And, God, I wanted to make him do whatever he was begging me not to…but the confusion won, and I backed away. I watched him visibly relax and fight to regain his breath. "Put your shirt on," he said, clearing his throat. "I'll take you home."


	6. Chapter 6

I checked the time when we got in the car. Just before midnight. Okay. So I guess his date had gone well. And I felt a sting in the back of my throat and swallowed down the acid. Neither of us had said anything since we'd left and the tension was tangible.

"So," I squeaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Laura seems nice."

"Lauren," corrected James, twisting his tight fists on the leather of the steering wheel. I cleared my throat again awkwardly, and looked out the window. The cool night air gave me a chill and I shivered. When we got to a red light, James shrugged off his jacket and thrust it into my lap. I smiled to myself as I put it on. It was warm and it smelled like him. What the fuck? I'd never been one to get overly sentimental about shit like this. I'm not that kind of girl.

But I'd always liked the way James smelled. It was the same since we were little kids. He was earthy and fresh like the herbs from his mother's garden with a pop of tangy citrus and I liked it. It felt like home. And for a second, as the familiar scent filled my head, I forgot all the shit in my life and it felt right, I was back to being James' best friend and nothing was complicated and everything was perfect.

But then James put the car in park and I smiled over at him and he was staring forward. Slowly, the smile slipped from my face. I stared at him. He resolutely kept his eyes forward. I touched his hand and he shivered but didn't look at me.

"James."

He didn't give any sign he'd heard me.

"James."

He didn't move.

"James." I squeezed his hand. "James, I miss you."

Finally, his face turned toward me, his face slack with relief.

"Jesus Christ, Hayleigh, I miss you too."

I smiled for the first time in weeks, a genuine smile. "Come up, James. I feel like we haven't hung out in forever."

He rubbed his chin and I heard the stubble scratch against his fingers. I shivered. No. I pushed the feelings down. I needed to focus on getting back to friends with James, not selfishly exploring my feelings. Finally, he nodded.

"Yeah." His expression was exhausted, but happy as he walked around the car and took my outstretched hand.

Two hours later, we were snuggled in bed watching the end of some Lifetime movie. We'd been commentating on the predicable plot and horrendous acting while passing a forty of Jack Daniels between us. The movie ended with some swelling orchestra music and I laughed. James put the alcohol on the nightstand, reaching for the remote, and turned the TV off.

"That was absolutely ridiculous," I giggled, alcohol warming my cheeks. And he was so close to me I could smell the desire on him. I could feel the fear in the tension of his neck. His eyes were half closed, their brown darker than I'd ever seen it, swimming in a sea of spring green and the way he regarded me made me short of breath, like he knew everything about me but was trying to figure out how to put it together into something that made sense. He was still, stiff as a board, not wanting to break anything about this moment. I looked at his lips. They were trembling slightly, almost imperceptibly.

A tiny droplet of whiskey sat there, teasing me. I looked back into his eyes and felt his breath quicken. The fear in these eyes and across his shoulders gave me the courage. Slowly, I leaned in and ran my tongue over his lip, the sharp stab of the alcohol on my taste buds shot pleasure down my spine. The sight of James' eyes blown wide and sparkling with dewy green had me reeling. I backed slowly away and he didn't move. I closed the distance once again and brushed my lips against his experimentally. And then he moved. His arms were around me and our lips were pressed together so hard it hurt but I couldn't bring myself to care because having him so close to me felt so good and, hey, a little pain always heightened my pleasure.

He pushed back from me, shaking his head. And, fuck it, I wasn't about to let his bullshit hesitation ruin this, so I grabbed his face between my hands and brought it close to mine. I stared into his eyes again, searched every corner. And I know we were trying to be friends, but shit.

"Kiss me," I said, giving him verbal permission, as if my body language wasn't enough. I released his face and brushed my nose against his. "James. Kiss me." His gaze took me in, fear still heavy in his eyes, and his hand came up to hold my neck. And the way his eyes fluttered closed as he came towards me made my heart skip a beat. He hesitated right before our lips touched and that little anticipation turned me on so much. Then his lips were moving against mine slowly, sensually, and I could feel every move he made. His tongue massaged mine like he'd been waiting to do this forever and he wasn't in a hurry for it to be over. His thumb rubbed back and forth softly just below my ear as he kissed me, and the confusing feelings all started to make sense.

He pulled back slightly and looked at me, gauging my reaction. I reached up and pushed his bangs out of his eyes gently. I still wasn't sure what this was, but the look on James' face was the most radiant, beautiful thing I had ever seen and I wanted to keep it there. I leaned in and kissed him quickly, looking at him to see his reaction. He kissed me back tentatively, but eventually, he was pushing me back by my shoulders, kissing me deeply. I felt the knee of his jeans brush my thigh as he swung his leg over me.

Suddenly I felt his cold hand on the warm skin my hip and I gasped into his mouth. He pushed my shirt up over my sides, gaining more confidence and kissing down the side of my neck. His gaze was back on mine as he pushed my shirt up over my chest, and I nodded, raising my arms for him to slide it off. His eyes raked over my torso like it was the first time he'd seen me like this. His hands ran over my stomach, each of my muscles clenching and each nerve exploding as his fingers brushed it. They travelled up over my chest and my breath hitched, coming in short bursts. This slowness was killing me.

As his hands explored me, my eyes fell closed, savoring the tingle of his skin on mine. And all of a sudden the pressure disappeared. I opened my eyes to investigate and was met with the sight of James pulling his shirt over his head. I moaned low. He hovered over me, his hands planted on either side of my head and his eyes imploring me, asking me if this was okay, and, yes, _God_, yes, it was. He dipped his head and kissed me again, and I didn't know why my heart hadn't gotten used to these kisses yet.

His hand reached behind my back and unhooked my bra. I pulled it off and lay bare before him and he looked at me with the softest expression in his eyes. I had never felt as beautiful as I did right then. He ran his hands down my sides again, and I wasn't used to being looked at this much…really looked at, taken in, appreciated. And while I felt like it should be awkward, it wasn't. Is this what intimacy felt like? And then his lips and tongue were ghosting over the skin of my chest and stomach, and I gasped. His stubble stung my skin but, oh, God, it felt amazing. I reached out and buried my fingers in his hair. It was soft as it brushed against my skin, and I tugged a little, pulling him back up to face me.

I ran my hands over his chest, and, yeah, this was a lot different than when we were kids. His lips were parted and his eyes shut as I rubbed at his skin, feeling every inch of him. And then I reached his jeans and popped the button and his eyes flew open. I brought a hand up and brushed it across his cheek and over his lips. He nodded ever so slightly, and my hands returned to his zipper, pushing his pants down over his ass and he kicked them off.

I hadn't seen James completely naked since we were eight and he'd forgotten his bathing suit when our families took a day trip to La Jolla Cove and he was too impatient to wait for his dad to go back and get it. That was way before I even cared that he and I were separate humans, let alone someone I could come to love one day.

And what was I thinking about that for? James was gripping the waistband of Carlos' boxers and pulling them off of me. When he came back up to kiss me again, and our bodies touched, I wondered how I had ever been with anyone else. I felt everything, every nerve, every movement. And I couldn't think. I fought against the alcohol, wanting to remember this forever. His hands raked my hair back from my face and he kissed every part, placing a line of kisses along my hairline, on each eyebrow, eyelid, cheek, nose and ending on my lips.

He leaned back and looked at me, asking for permission one last time. I pulled him down, smiling tenderly as I kissed his lips. And he pushed into me slowly, his eyes never leaving my face, watching my mouth drop open and my eyes flutter shut and my hands come up to grip his arms. He was motionless for a minute and every part of me screamed for movement but he was still. I pawed at his shoulders, arching up and pressing our chests together. I wrapped my arms across his back, my fingertips digging into his taut skin.

And when he moved, I felt like I was going to break apart with pleasure. His kisses were still deep and sweet and languishing and I'd never made love this slow before. He was moving against and with me and I wanted this to go on forever. I was overwhelmed with pleasure and desire and—could this possibly be?—love and I gasped for breath, exhaling his name into his mouth and I felt something change in the moment. He kissed me more fiercely, as if trying to tell me something words couldn't express. His hands were all over me and the combination of all these different kinds of pleasure physically hurt and then I was coming, pulling James as close as I could get him, scratching across his back, down his arms, crashing my lips into any part of him I could find. His tongue was wild in my mouth as I bucked up into him, riding this out together and he was panting into my mouth and I'd never felt pleasure like this.

And when we finally finished, James was on top of me, exhausted, his chest moving quickly against me and I just kept kissing him, afraid that if I stopped, this wouldn't be real. After awhile, he rolled off of me, and pulled me close, holding my head to his chest. And I was more than okay with this. I pulled the covers up over us and trailed my fingers up and down the bare skin of his back as we drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

There's a moment, a fraction of a second when you're not asleep or awake. It's like that time of day just before daybreak, when it's neither night nor day, but some in between where everything seems to make perfect sense. And you're neither too not nor cold, or too anything, really. You're just….extremely content. And that moment stretched out all night for me. When I woke up to the soft rising and falling of James' chest, I couldn't help but smile. How many times had this happened before? But this time it was different, so different, and that was exhilarating and frightening all at once.

My heart beat faster as I took in the feeling of our legs tangled together, the only thing between us skin and the memory of last night. And I was still in awe of the way he made me feel everything, and how his skin excited my every nerve, and how his kisses were enough to make me lose myself. He pulled me closer in his sleep, as if it was second nature to hold me. I grazed my fingers over the smooth skin of his chest, content to just lay in his arms and still trying to wrap my mind around not only what had happened but all these feelings. And all of a sudden, there was a deep intake of breath and I looked up at James as he awoke, and, God, his eyes were beautiful in the morning, colored by sleep, before they've chosen their exact coloring for the day.

He smiled as he wiggled down on the bed so we were face to face. His hand ran up my arm and over my shoulder, gathering my hair and pulling it back and off my neck. He ran his fingers through my hair and I shivered. A tiny smile played across his lips and danced in his blurry gaze. Brushing our noses together, he hesitated again before placing one of those sweet, slow kisses to my lips. An easy tingle started in my heart and spread outwards until I was floating on a sea of bliss. I played with the hair at the back of his neck as we kissed and I could do this for hours and not get bored.

My phone rang and I looked toward it. James' hand came up to cup my cheek and turn my face back towards him. His eyes were hooded and a smile sat on his lips as he murmured into my lips, "Let it go." And I was more than content to get lost in him again…but then I recognized the ring tone.

"Oh, God," I said, pulling the sheet across my chest and tripping over it in my haste to get to my phone on my desk across the room.

"Hayle—" James began, but then he listened. "Is that…?" His face pinkened as I nodded. He raised himself on his elbow, dragging a hand back through his hair with his expression split between amused and mortified. I got to the phone on the last ring.

"Hello," I breathed. I leaned back against the desk, one arm holding the sheet across my chest, my other hand on my forehead. I could not believe this.

"Hi there, sweetie. Why are you all breathy?"

"Oh, um. I, uh, just got back from a run." I cringed and blushed, looking over at James, who was chuckling silently.

"Okay, well, honey, your parents are still going to visit Suzanne in Boston for Thanksgiving, right?" Now James was sitting up in bed, stretching, not taking any effort to cover up. He looked over and smirked at me staring. "Hayleigh? Are you still there?"

"What? Oh, yeah, they're going."

"Well," her voice was peppy and bright. I smiled despite myself. I loved her. "You'll be joining us then, naturally. Boston's so far to go for just the weekend."

"Oh," I said. James was sitting on the edge of the bed now, making a pouty face at me. I stuck out my tongue at him. I'd missed this side of James. "Yeah, that sounds awesome, actually."

"Oh, sweetheart, that's wonderful. We miss you so much."

"I miss you guys, too!" I pushed my hair behind my ear. "It's been so crazy here."

"I hope that son of mine has been helping you out."

I chuckled, blushing even darker. "You know he has."

"He always did have a soft spot for you," she remarked with an air of nonchalance.

I froze. "E-excuse me?"

"He's always been a little in love with you, dear." I couldn't think, not even enough to give some bullshit response. When I didn't speak, she continued, "Just tell James he's bringing you home with him."

"Alright," I managed. I hung up with her, and looked over at James. He smiled at me and I decided I needed to think about what his mother had said before we talked about it. Besides…we'd been having such a _nice_ time.

I made my way back to the bed. Dropping the sheet, I planted my knees on either side of his hips.

"Your mother," I kissed him. "Says hello."

James grinned against my mouth and pulled me down on top of him, pushing his tongue passed my lips and I had never had a morning after like this. It was strange and familiar all at once, and I was confused but I still couldn't help but giggle as we wrestled on the bed. And finally he pinned me like he had months before and it was absurd to think how much had changed since that time when I all I wanted was my fake ID and now here I was thinking about how much I wanted him to kiss me, to keep kissing me forever, and make love to me again, because the thought of last night still ran thick in my veins.

As he kissed me, I pulled him close and arched my hips up to him. I wanted him, to feel him again, his body had become my drug in less than 12 hours. He pushed me back and held me at arm's length.

"Hayleigh, stop," he said as I strained against him, wanting his lips again, the warmth of his skin against mine. He held my face in his hands. "We need to talk about this."

What? No, no, no, we did _not_ need to talk about this. We needed to _do_ this, not talk about it. Because, fuck it if I knew what was going on. I tried to get close enough to touch him, and I whined as he kept me at bay with a steel grip and a matching gaze. Pulling together his eyebrows, he looked at me just like he had last night, knowing me completely, but confused about how to solve me. And I just wanted him to love me and not talk about it because I can deal with physicality, but I can't deal with emotions. It was the athlete in me. I could deal with concrete things like James' body, his lips, his touch, but fuck it if I could understand or deal with the messy vapors and mystifying shadows of thoughts, feelings that I couldn't even reconcile to myself, let alone to James.

"Hayleigh?" James said. His eyes were searching me again, and it hurt. God, it hurt so much. And I couldn't figure out why he was able to make me feel so….so vulnerable. No one had been able to do that before, and I really hated it. I wanted to die. I wanted to just sink into the bed and disappear, because all of a sudden his touch was too hot, his gaze too deep, his voice too loud.

"I, uh. I need to shower," I said, jumping out of bed, grabbing my robe and shower caddy and running down the hall to the bathroom. When I stepped under the hot water, I cried for the first time in years. And I was surprised how easily I could break. This overwhelming feeling was worse than having my heart ripped apart. Because I had a feeling I could be happy if I just let myself. But I was afraid to feel anything too much. I'd rather keep skating along without emotions getting in the way than risk being hurt.

I held onto the walls as the sobs wracked my body and I wondered why I couldn't just be numb.


	8. Chapter 8

I cried into my fists until my lips were numb and the water became cold. I turned off the water and stood dripping in the stall as I caught my breath. Toweling off, I wrapped myself in my robe and picked up my unused caddy, making my way back to my room. When I stepped inside, James was gone, and my throat was thick again, my eyes prickled. Because I realized too late that I had wanted him to be there, to have stayed. I wanted more than anything for him to have waited this out, waited _me_ out. I closed my eyes and replayed everything, and I just could not stop the tears when I remembered how I felt when he had just looked at me. Before he touched me, before he kissed me, he just looked at me. And I couldn't chase the memory of that feeling from my mind. And it made me feel loved—really, truly loved—for the first time in my life.

How strange that it would be James. Or maybe, I thought, that wasn't strange at all. And how frightening…this fear that sat at the pit of my stomach. A fear of…letting myself dive into something blindly, well, something I actually cared about. Because I was a risk taker. But not about things I cared about. But I had never cared about something like this before, some_one_ like this. It was always more to gain than to lose, but this time….this time I could lose everything. Because James had always been there. And what if, someday, he wasn't? I closed my eyes tightly against the thought. I couldn't bear it.

And that's when I realized I had to choose. I was terrified. I couldn't take it back this time. I couldn't brush it off. I couldn't reason it away. And I wanted him as my friend forever. Fuck the way he made me feel. I could get over that. I'd been fighting feeling anything real for nineteen years. Surely I could do it for another…sixty or so. I was nothing if not stubborn. And I refused to give up this friendship for something as uncertain as this. Even if everything in my heart was screaming for it.

It took an actual effort to push down my feelings as I picked up my phone. It'd been two weeks since we talked. I'd never gone this long without talking to James and it weighed on every aspect of my life. I'd always taken it for granted that he'd be there. And now that I'd tasted my life without him, I was set even more firmly on being just friends. My hands quivered as I held the phone to my ear. It rang once and then went to voicemail. That stung. I hung up. This was not something that could be said via voicemail. I was going to call Carlos but then I remembered the he was probably still pissed at me. So I got in bed and under the covers and dialed Kendall.

"Hey there, baby doll," came his cheerful greeting. I smiled. It was the first friendly voice I'd heard in far too long. "Long time no see."

"About that." I sighed. "How's James?"

"Do you want the sunshine version or the truth?"

I closed my eyes and sunk deeper into bed, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head and the covers up to my chin, curling up and making myself as small as possible so whatever he said might not hurt as bad.

"Kendall," I said.

"Okay, honestly, Hayleigh. He's not good. He hasn't been himself since you stopped talking." He paused and I could tell he was fighting between being polite and his curiosity. "What happened there? He just came in and went right to his room. No one knew what…" He trailed off.

"Well," I began. Kendall was silent. "We slept together."

"WHAT? You and James?"

"Kendall. I don't need anyone to make me feel worse about it."

"Sorry."

I took a deep breath and continued. "And then, in the morning, he wanted to talk about it. And, I…well I kinda freaked out and ran away." And then as an afterthought, I added, "And Carlos probably hates me too."

"Okay. So. Let me get this straight," said Kendall. "You were fucking Carlos, and then you yelled at him and then you went and fucked James, let him sleep with you all night, and then, when he wanted to talk to you about it, you ran away?"

"Wow, you make me sound awesome," I deadpanned.

"Well, Hayleigh, what are you going to do about it?" This is why I loved Kendall. He never sugar coated anything. He was straightforward, no nonsense.

"I want to talk to James but he won't answer my calls or texts."

"Okay." I could picture him chewing on his bottom lip, eyebrows knit together, as he tried to come up with a solution. "Alright, can you get here before six? James and Logan are out. I'll just let you in his room to wait. And I won't let him leave unless he talks to you."

I smiled. "Kendall, you are seriously amazing."

"I know," he chuckled as he hung up.

Walking up to the house felt like a death march. This was it. I knocked, and Kendall let me in. We shared a smile, but neither of us said anything. I made my way to James' room and sat on his bed, hands on my knees and tapping my toes as I waited. I wasn't a very patient person as a rule, and waiting around to talk to someone who probably would be really mad when he saw me was not on my list of best things to wait for.

Pretty soon, I heard the door handle turn, and I looked up and there was James and I almost lost everything. I missed him so much. He stared at me, frozen, hand still on the doorknob. I stood and he turned to leave.

"No. James, wait." He stopped, closed the door, and turned towards me. He flared his nostrils, as if trying very hard not to cry or scream. His eyes were venom, his breath belabored. "James, please sit down. Don't make this harder than it already is." He walked stiffly to his desk and sat, not looking at me. We sat in silence for a few minutes and I just looked at him. His eyes were bright, but dark circles hung underneath them. His hair was disheveled and he didn't look quite as put together as usual. Sweatpants were usually reserved for home and bed.

Finally, he leaned forward, and looked at me, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together. I couldn't form words in my head. He was so…James. And I just couldn't handle him.

"Well?" he said.

"James, I'm sorry, I just…I don't know, I got freaked out and I'm an ass but I don't want to lose you as a friend because this is just silly." He didn't say anything, he just looked at me. His eyes searched my entire body. I felt everywhere his eyes roamed and I just stared back and I couldn't move, think, breathe. "James. I miss you. So fucking much. I miss my best friend." When he didn't say anything, I continued. "I just want to be friends again. Like before."

James looked at his hands, and when he looked back at me, I knew I was about to break.

"Then tell me it was a mistake, Hayleigh." His eyes were razors, cutting into my soul and I really wished I was anywhere but here. "Tell me we shouldn't have slept together."

I could not feel anything. I was numb. And then it all hit me. This was going terribly wrong. He was supposed to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay. He was supposed to be my best friend again. I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and I wanted to die when I saw his gaze riddled with confusion, disbelief and pain.

"I…I can't do that."

He set his jaw. "Then I'll wait until you can." And with that, he got up and left the room.


	9. Chapter 9

The car ride was quiet. It was a relief to be with James, but this awkwardness I could do without. But, I thought to myself, two awkward, silent hours with James were better than days and days without him. The brisk autumn wind whipped through my hair from the open side and top of James' Jeep. My sunglasses shielded my eyes from the harsh wind as well as the bright sun. I watched James out the side of my eyes. His head was bobbing along to some inaudible melody, his lips forming lyrics only he knew and I wondered if this was how he wrote best, on the open road. His fingers tapped a beat on the steering wheel and I desperately wanted him to sing out, stop this nonsense, and let me hear the song in his heart.

Because James was the most talented person I knew and I'd known it since I was five and he told me he was going to be famous. I smiled as I remembered asking him how, how would he be famous. And his little smug half smile as he opened his mouth and sang Amazing Grace, my favorite song. And how his tiny seven year old vocal cords carried both the notes and his heart into my ears. I had never doubted him. And my heart swelled with pride at remembering sharing each milestone with him. As we exited the highway, I wanted to cry, because I didn't know how we could ever go back to being effortless like that.

We pulled into the driveway, James put the car in park and we just sat there, realizing that we had to pretend out whole relationship wasn't completely confused and fucked up. I took a deep breath and stepped from the Jeep. As I turned back to grab my bag, a pair of arms seized me from behind, and I was being whirled around. I shrieked and grabbed onto the arms around my waist for dear life. Hearty laughter burst in my ears and I felt at ease for the first time in weeks.

"Andrew!" I squealed. "Put me down!" As my feet touched the ground, I spun around and threw my arms around his neck.

"Haybail!" he exclaimed. "I missed you." I laughed at the nickname as I held him at arm's length.

"Med school's treating you well," I said, raising an eyebrow. "You are lookin' good."

"Well," he replied, winking. "I did get all the attractive genes." He let me go and pulled James into a tight hug. Seeing James smile sent tingles down my spine, and I wanted to badly for those upturned lips to be directed towards me again. This whole being with James but actually being a million miles away thing was really starting to hurt. I could feel the dull ache in my heart and I tried to push it down, but then James' eye met mine for a fraction of a second, and I felt my chest constrict. A small, strangled gasp escaped my lips. The smile on his lips and in his eyes died and he looked away quickly. Andrew didn't seem to notice the exchange as he grabbed my back, hooked me by the arm, and pulled me inside.

I couldn't get the image of James' smile out of my mind. You never really realize how much you miss something until you get another taste of what you're missing. I made a mental note to watch him this weekend, to make sure I took a mental picture of every smile, mental audio of every laugh, because I didn't know when I'd see or hear it again.

Before I knew what was happening, I was enfolded in another pair of arms.

"Susan," called Richard, James' stepfather, releasing me. "James and Hayleigh are here!" Suddenly, James' mom's head popped into the room from the kitchen doorway.

"Hi, sweetie!" Her brown eyes sparkled as she smiled at me and disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Nice to see you, too, Mom," mumbled James, rolling his eyes. Richard chuckled.

"I've always said Hayleigh's the favorite child," he said, winking. His laugh and friendly smile that radiated across his entire round face and danced in his clear blue eyes calmed me and I was glad to be home. Richard put his arm around me and guided me into the den. Chatting about school, I found my eyes wandering to the couch where James and Andrew were catching up. James gave Andrew a playful punch in the arm, and to see him so relaxed and happy…I pushed the pangs of feelings back down. I couldn't do this. It was too much.

"Um," I interrupted Richard. "Is it okay if I go rest a little?" His mouth opened, his eyes surprised, but I didn't wait for a response. Picking up my bag, I rushed from the room, feeling three pairs of eyes on me, two that questioned, and one that seared the back of my neck. I ran to the guest room, tossed my bag on the ground and collapsed onto the familiar bed, wrapping myself tight in my arms and squeezing my eyes closed against the ensuing headache. As hard as I tried, my arms did not feel like anyone else's. And especially not like the ones I wished they were.

There was a soft knock at the door. I sat up, sniffed, and patted my cheeks with the wristbands of my sweatshirt. I hadn't even realized I had been crying.

"Come in," I said in an unconvincingly cheerful voice. James' mother slipped in and closed the door.

She glided over to the bed and held me in her arms. She always did have a certain grace, and I thought in the back of my mind that that's where James must have gotten it. But my head was pounding and the tears were flowing and I just couldn't deal with any of it anymore. The pretending, the lying, to myself and to James, it was way too much stress. She didn't ask me to explain. She just held me. And that's why I loved her like my own mother, because she'd been there almost as long, and she knew me almost as well as James did.

"You need to talk to him," she whispered, when my sobs had waned to whimpers. I sniffed. "I don't know what's going on, but I can tell he's hurting, too." I looked up at her, eyes huge. She stood, smiling softly down at me. "Dinner is at 7," she said as she walked towards the door. "And remember what I said: he's always been a little in love with you."

The door shut quietly but it went off like a bomb in my brain. My mind was racing. How did she know? And how the fuck was I going to fix this? It exhausted me just thinking about it and it already seemed impossible to come out of this in one piece. But by the time dinner rolled around, I had resolved to talk to him after.

So dinner came and went and we watched some campy family comedy in the den after pumpkin pie. James left for bed halfway through, but I knew better. He was going to write out whatever he had been singing in the car that afternoon. I held the mug of mulled cider between my chilly hands and sipped until the credits rolled. The hot liquid burned its way down my throat but the pain stabilized me, reminded me that I was, indeed, human, and I could tolerate at least a certain amount. I shared a look with Susan, and then headed for James' room. I wasn't sure how much pain my heart could take.

I turned the knob slowly and peeked my head around the door. As predicted, James was at his keyboard, headphones in, his fingers racing across the keys, humming a melody, singing out some syllables softly, and I almost didn't want to disturb him. Because this is when he was really happy. I could tell by the way his shoulders and back were straight, how his eyelashes brushed gently against his cheekbones as he rolled his head back and played what he'd written so far. And I could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he whisper-sang some lyrics, and this was James at his most elemental. And I couldn't hold my feelings down anymore. I couldn't pretend. I pushed into the room, rushed over to him, and took his face in my hands. His skin was smooth beneath my palms as I kissed him. And, God, why had I fought this? Why? Why couldn't I let myself have this? Have him? Forever.

His hands came up and hooked on my wrist, pulling my hands from his cheeks and he pulled off my lips roughly, breathing hard, tears in his eyes as he pushed back away from me.

"Why would you do that?" He asked, his eyes wet and shining wildly. His voice was husky, hoarse with anger and confusion. I reeled backwards. Oh, God.

"I-I…I don't know. I just…" I couldn't put thoughts together. I couldn't tell him why because I didn't really know myself. And just as I regained myself and was about to tell him everything, he spoke.

"Hayleigh, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I'm really sick of it." I searched my mind for a way to tell him that this wasn't a game. This wasn't a game at all. This was my feelings, this was my life, and I didn't know what was happening. I didn't have time to figure out what had just happened, so I just blurted the first thing that came to my mind.

"I want to be friends."

James stood, tearing the headphones from around his neck and throwing them with a clatter on the floor. I backed away. I had never seen James like this.

"No, Hayleigh. What about what I want? Huh?" He was right up in my face and I wished I couldn't smell him, feel his heat, see his lips. "You've always been the one to lead. I've let you be in control all our lives, but this time I'm not letting you. I love you, Hayleigh, and it's all or nothing, because I can't continue pretending that I don't think of you every goddamn second of the day." He paused, took a deep breath and stood back from me a bit. His hands were in fists, his veins popping in his tense muscles and I couldn't stop the tears. "I don't know if you're scared, or confused, or what, but I wish I could love you and make you believe it, because as hard as this is on you, it's harder on me."

We stood there, inches apart for what seemed like years. Neither of us moved, neither of us spoke. The only sounds were his heavy breathing and my sobs stifled by my hands. And then I ran, out of the room and to my bed and let everything loose and cried until I fell off into a fitful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning was cold and gray. The boys left before I awoke to take Richard's boat out fishing. I stretched my aching muscles. Stepping into the shower, I rubbed the back of my neck. I couldn't believe how much stress tension I had. I was surprised how I let James get to me. And I wanted to get back in bed and sleep forever. Actually, I wanted to snuggle, but I was fairly certain James hated me, for leaving, for rejecting him. But it wasn't what I meant; it was a coping mechanism. I wasn't used to feeling all these things. I wasn't used to my heart wanting something so bad that it was willing to break. And I wasn't ready for how hard it was to hold my heart back from something it really wanted. I'd never wanted to stop myself before. I was struck by the thought that it wouldn't be nearly as difficult if it was anyone but James.

I threw on jeans and pulled a sweatshirt over my head. My wet hair hung heavy on my back. I shuffled into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. I hopped up on a stool at the breakfast bar and flipped absentmindedly through a Good Housekeeping that was there.

"Did you talk to him?"

I jumped. I hadn't heard her come in. She walked around the island to the coffee maker as I regained my breath. Turning back to me, she raised an eyebrow.

"We talked," I said. "But I'm pretty sure he hates me more."

Susan took a sip of her coffee before nodding, signaling me to continue.

"Well, I don't know. I just…I got scared again. I, okay, I know I love him. I'm not trying to hide that anymore. I just…I just don't know if I can take this."

As she opened her mouth to reply, the guys came bursting through the back door and piled into the kitchen, laughing and patting each other on the back. All three of them were drenched. I looked outside. I hadn't realized it had started to rain. James looked over at me, and I thought he would stop smiling, but instead he ran over to me and enveloped me in a soaking hug, and I was too relieved to be mad. His sodden hair sprayed me as he tossed it back. He was looking into my eyes and smiling for the first time in weeks and I couldn't get a hold of myself.

He released me, and started peeling off his clothes. He was down to his jeans before Susan chided him. "In the middle of the kitchen, James, really? I taught you better than that." He flashed her a smile, scooping up his soggy clothes and heading off to his room. I followed closely behind.

"James, I need to talk to you," I said, as we entered his room. He looked at me, amusement no longer coloring his eyes. He didn't say no, but he looked away from me, down at the puddle he was making on the floor. I didn't know how I could even do this. I had no place to start. We seemed so far apart from how we used to be. I took a deep breath. "Do you remember the first time you told me you were going to be famous?" His head shot up, he looked at me with amazement in his eyes. "And I asked you how. And you sang—"

"Amazing Grace," he breathed, shaking his head. "I thought I was the only one who remembered that." I stood and stared at his awestruck face, and I knew for certain that I was in love with him. The fact that we shared this memory, this seemingly insignificant moment, that he remembered, and he cherished it. That meant something. That meant a whole hell of a lot.

Just as I was about to pour everything out, Andrew stuck his head in the door.

"Mom's making brunch," he said. Spotting James half naked in the middle of the room, he added, "Get changed, asshole," before ducking out of the room.

I looked back at James and he turned to me apologetically.

"Can we please talk later?" I asked. "It's really important that you hear everything I have to say."

He nodded, and I left, my stomach in knots. I needed to tell him now. I needed him to know everything, and I wasn't looking forward to waiting.

The rest of the day was full of family and food. There wasn't a spare minute to talk to James alone, but I kept catching him watching me out of the corner of my eye, as if he was trying to read everything I had to say by the way I was behaving. And I really wanted nothing more than to pull him into my arms and kiss him slow, and tell him I was ready to love him.

And finally I ended up in bed, exhausted and resigned to the fact that I'd half to talk to him tomorrow. The rain played a soft melody on the window pain that lulled me to sleep.

I woke up to James crawling into bed with me. His sweatpants were soft against my bare legs, and his chest was warm as he pushed into me.

"Move over. It's cold."

This was a dream, right? This had to be a dream. But his body felt like a furnace against me. His cold feet pressed against my legs to warm them. His hair was messy, sitting back off his face in a matted bunch. His eyes were hopeful and bright behind his glasses. His hand was on my neck but he kept a distance between us. I realized that my hand had made its way subconsciously to his waist. I moved my fingertips in small circles over his soft skin and felt him shiver, goosebumps popping up.

"James, what are you doing?"

"You said you wanted to talk later," he whispered, pushing my hair behind my ear, and, okay, I know I had decided that I loved him, but these feelings were not acceptable.

"Yeah," I breathed. His closeness was making me foggy and I really didn't want to mess this up again. "James, I just….I have all these feelings and I tried to push them away but I can't anymore. I can't." His gaze never wavered, and I pressed on. "I've been trying to make them go away. And when I realized I couldn't, I tried to hide them, and when I couldn't do that either, I hurt you, and I'm sorry." Just then, I noticed that James' eyes were almost completely brown. His steady gaze captured me and urged me to continue. "I've known you for so long that I thought it was just something I could get over. But it's not, James, it's not. It's like," I cast my gaze around, trying to find the proper way to describe something that had been baffling me for months. "It's like everything that doesn't make sense about me makes sense when I'm with you." I paused, and his fingers played with the hair by my ear. "I love you, James. I love you so _fucking_ much it hurts. But I'm scared. I'm so scared James. I've never felt something this real in my whole life and I don't know how to cope. I can't handle living without you."

James took a deep breath and smiled. Just a small smile, barely upturned lips, but I could see it all in his eyes, afire with emerald rays breaking through the deep brown. His eyes were half closed as he tightened his grip on my neck, pulling me towards him. He brushed our noses together.

"Hayleigh," he sighed onto my lips, and I couldn't breathe. But it was okay because his lips were on mine and he was breathing for the both of us. And I let myself go, enjoying this for everything it was, and for everything it meant, for now and for the future. "I will never leave you, baby girl," he murmured into my ear and I just wanted to be in his arms forever. He touched me as if he were afraid I would break and I found myself wanting him so much more for it. My hand travelled over his back as he kissed me slow and deep, the kind of kisses I had been missing. I kissed him back like an addict, and, Jesus, I couldn't get enough. And I hooked my thumb in the back of his sweatpants and pulled them down his hip.

"Stop," he said breathlessly, tearing his lips from mine and grabbing my wrist to stop me. His eyes looked into mine. His kiss-swollen lips trembled, slightly parted, only inches from mine, but I didn't dare move. Had I somehow fucked this up again? And I braced myself for him to leave, because that's what everyone in my life had always done. "I don't want to do this if it's not going to mean anything."

The words were carried to my ears on a breath and I looked into his wide eyes and I realized he was just as scared as I was. And I finally realized that James wasn't some superhuman being. He had a heart, and love, and fears just like me. Suddenly I saw him in a new light, with all his flaws and fears, and I swear in that moment I loved him more than I ever thought I could love anything or anyone.

"James." I trailed my fingers up his chest to his neck, and locked my fingers into his hair. "I love you. Everything I tried to hide is out now. I love you, James, I love you. So this is going to mean everything." I felt his body relax, and I kissed him softly.

And as he pushed me back and kissed me, I knew this moment, this was a moment I'd die without. I allowed myself to feel everything, I opened my heart and I felt free for the first time in my life. How perfect that it was with James. I should have known. Because everything good in my life had come with James. And I couldn't figure out why I hadn't let myself love him before.

James was pushing my shirt up over my head and I was shivering, but he pressed his warm chest down upon me and I felt full, I felt right. I could feel his erection against my thigh and my heart beat faster. My breath hitched as he nipped at my neck, collar bone, chest and I pressed up against him. He took my hands, interlocked our fingers and pushed them above my head. Slowly pulling off my lips, he looked me in the eye and smiled. He freed his fingers and slowly ghosted them down my arms, his fingertips setting the nerves of the sensitive skin on fire. I gasped. Our noses were touching and I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips. He leaned back as his hands moved down my sides and squeezed at my hips. His touch was soft but greedy, like he wanted to touch every inch of me before he claimed me.

And then he did it again. The looking thing. He just stared down at me with wonder in his eyes, like he had never seen anything more beautiful, like he was the luckiest man alive, and I couldn't help myself, I surged up and kissed him hungrily, pawing at his neck, scratching across his back, and he groaned into my mouth, and, _God_, I wanted him. I pushed at his sweatpants, and he leaned forward, letting them sink down his legs. He kicked them off and kissed me again, his hands combing through my hair, and I thought I couldn't enjoy this more. He kissed at my neck, laying me back down. His hands played over the skin covering my ribs and I shivered, bucking up and whining. Hooking his hands into the sides of my underwear, he pulled them off and laying naked in front of James was the most exhilarating thing I had experienced. He looked at me again. And, God, I would be okay with nothing more for the rest of my life.

As he covered my body with his, I couldn't feel anything but James, and I wished everything in my life could be a fraction as good as this was. I could feel every move he made and I wondered if I had the same effect on him as he had on me. Did I make him want to just let pleasure take over? Did I make him wonder what these feelings meant? Did I make him wish this could go on forever?

His hands were moving over my thighs and I shuddered. Leaning back, he left tiny, lingering kisses across my chest and stomach. I watched as his fingertips teased my inner thighs. I shivered in anticipation and James looked up at me, locking our eyes as he placed a kiss right below my belly button, and I closed my eyes. He pushed his fingers into me slowly and I felt his lips brushing along my inner thighs. And, Jesus, how the fuck had I ever been with anyone else? How? I reached down and grabbed his hair, pulling his lips back to mine, and when we met, I swear it was the best kiss of my life. I pushed back against his hand and he pulled out of me. My disappointed whine became a gasp as he pushed into me and I pulled him closer as he kissed down my neck and, fuck, this was amazing. His lips were back on mine and I couldn't figure out who was kissing who and whose lips and tongues were whose.

"I love you, I love you," he repeated over and over against my lips as we moved together and I wished he could be in my mind to see the incredible explosion of feelings and emotions I couldn't understand or express. And I just wished I could tell him everything I loved about him, everything he did to me that he didn't understand. And then everything went white and I was kissing him with everything I had. My head fell back and I gasped as we rode this out together. His lips on my neck, his teeth biting down on my collar bone to keep from crying out, spiked my pleasure.

The movement of his hips slowed and he held himself up on his hands over me. He looked at me, chest shining with a sheen of sweat, and I could see the love in his eyes, and I just wanted him in my arms. He pulled out of me and fell to the side, exhausted, and pulled me in close, like he had that first night. I pulled the covers over us.

"I love you," I told him. I felt him press a soft kiss to my hair. I rested my head on his chest, and closed my eyes. Just as I was drifting back to sleep, James began to sing softly.

_Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me._


End file.
